Meifu's Gate ::Fourth Maki::

by VraieEsprit

Juu & Shun are seniors, but already there are those who resent Juushirou's position as Anideshi. Meanwhile, a bloody murder in District Six threatens to unravel 3 generations of Kuchiki secrets - as a figure in the shadows works to bring down the Clans.

66. Shizurugi

Chapter Sixty Four: Shizurugi

"It appears that Seiren passed a more restful night."

Futsuki pushed open the door to the solar, pausing to acknowledge Genryuusai's presence before coming to join his brother. It was early the following morning and, after an uneasy few hours sleep, Guren had risen early, his mind still preoccupied by the impending threat. Though his men had not found Keitarou's whereabouts, the Clan leader was certain that his target had not left District Six. How he could be so sure he did not know, but it was almost an instinct buried deep in the pit of his gut, telling him that the exiled Urahara was still lurking in the shadows, waiting for his moment to pounce.

Surely now Ryuu was here, pounce he would. It only remained to be seen what would come of the encounter.

"How is his condition?" he asked now, shooting Futsuki a quizzical look. "Has he roused up or said any more?"

"No," Futsuki shook his head. "Nothing that far, I'm afraid. Still, I don't know whether it is Retsu-sama's skill or Ryuu's presence, but whilst the pressure of his spirit power doesn't seem to have abated much, it also hasn't got any worse."

"That's probably as much as we can hope for, at present," Guren sighed. "Thank you, Futsuki. I assume Shibata is also resting more comfortably?"

"He's still asleep, but yes," Futsuki nodded. "Knowing both Ryuu and Seiren are alive has reassured him a little, and though he has shattered bones, he isn't complaining about pain. Soldiers are resilient men, Guren."

"Indeed they are," Guren agreed. "Very well. I will leave him to himself for the time being. He is far enough from the unstable parts of the building, I think, and probably to try and move him again now would set back his recovery. Perhaps when Retsu-dono has a moment to spare, she might visit him – but probably he is out of immediate danger."

"And me?" Futsuki looked quizzical. "I'd hoped to ride to the Nagoya estate this morning, speak to my men and obtain any information that I can. Is that possible or are you requiring my company here?"

"No, you can go," Guren assured him. "In fact, stay there until I send for you, all right? None of us quite know what might happen now Ryuu has returned here, and I'd rather keep anybody that I can out of the crossfire."

"All right," Futsuki bowed his head once more. "Be careful, Guren. This is an enemy who deals in weapons other than the sword."

With that he was gone, the sound of his footsteps moving further and further from the solar, and Guren sighed, casting his sole companion a weary look.

"I am sorry, Genryuusai-sama," he said heavily, taking a seat and indicating for his guest to do the same. "It must seem very selfish of me to summon you here on what is essentially a Kuchiki matter."

"No, I don't think so," Genryuusai lowered his aging body onto the cushions, offering Guren a smile. "This has never been your fight alone, Guren-dono. I understand your reasons for wanting me here and Retsu too. If this truly is where that man Aizen is hiding…"

"We've sealed all of the boltholes we're aware of," Guren said categorically. "I've had Sixth Squad busy ever since Seiren was first taken ill. All of the Kuchiki Senkaimon are closed off, and I know that at least two other illicit pathways have been destroyed as well. The borders are closed and securely guarded, and anyone meeting his description will be stopped and searched on sight. There have been no reports of him trying to leave Sixth via those methods, though – it's really my belief that he remains here."

"You and Ryuu are his targets, so such a conjecture makes sense," Genryuusai acknowledged gravely. "They are not his only targets, though. I would rather not leave my school for a long stretch of time – there are those in District One that he might also seek to harm."

"Shirogane, perhaps?" Guren's eyes became grave, and Genryuusai shrugged his hunched shoulders.

"I've had no indication that your other nephew's life is in particular peril," he said matter-of-factly. "It's possible, but no, I don't think that he is Aizen's immediate target."

"Then…?"

"My Seniors returned from the Real World with one classmate dead and two injured," Genryuusai spoke soberly, and Guren could see the genuine emotion in the old man's eyes as he related the tragedy. "They also brought back with them some disturbing information. It seems that Aizen Keitarou is currently not able to use his Bankai."

"He told me that too. Not since his battle with the District boy," Guren agreed. "I don't understand why that would be considered disturbing, though. Surely, if there is any chance to kill him, now would be the time."

"True enough," Genryuusai conceded. "However, whilst his young accomplices were trying their best to remove Ryuu from the picture, Aizen himself had a different target. He tracked down Ukitake Juushirou and spoke to him directly. In fact, if not for the interference of a classmate, I believe he might have tried to take the boy by force."

"Ukitake? But why?" Guren's brow creased in confusion. "He may have ties to the Kuchiki and I don't deny them, but surely…"

"Ukitake survived Aizen's Bankai, and strands of that man's sword are still lodged inside of his body somewhere," Genryuusai interrupted his companion softly. "We don't know where. Neither Retsu nor I can detect them and it appears as though they must be quite dead. There is a second possibility, though. If those strands have been sealed by Juushirou's own sword, it's possible Keitarou might find a way to reanimate them. It's only a vague chance – but Juushirou is in District One, and I can't be sure that he or any of my other students are safe in my absence. Amai Suzuno had no connection to any political disturbance, nor was she a particular friend of Juushirou's – but she was killed regardless. Aizen has proven himself unafraid to spill innocent blood – and my academy has a lot of that to spill."

"I see," Guren became grave. "I didn't realise it was so complicated. Perhaps I should have summoned the Council after all."

"Kinnya is there, and so are Kazoe and Shirogane. With some men dispatched from First Squad too, I hope it will be enough," Genryuusai sighed. "You can't always protect children you intend to send to war from every danger this world fosters, Guren-dono. It's a mantra I've always clung to, but it doesn't mean I want to throw their lives away unnecessarily. The sooner I can return the better."

"Agreed," Guren inclined his head. "I've made no secret of the fact that I've summoned Ryuu back here, nor that Seiren is currently still alive. It's a risk, but to lure a man like that out, I have to make him believe it's worth the danger to show his face. Whilst he's here, he isn't in District One…and I'm under the impression his Shihouin puppet is dead."

"Yes. Onoe is dead," Genryuusai confirmed. "The whereabouts of the Endou girl is still unknown, but she is probably still very much alive."

"Aizen is the real target, though, isn't he? Aizen is the one who arranged the murder of my son."

"The one who arranged it, yes," Genryuusai responded carefully. "He was not the one who carried it out."

"No. I know, but it may as well have been him, since it was almost certainly his puppet," Guren's eyes became angry, and Genryuusai shook his head.

"The one who killed your son was Endou Eiraki," he said softly. "She administered a lethal poison and she would have done the same to Ryuu if two of my students hadn't interfered. She admitted before them that she had been responsible for Ribari-dono's death, and that she had no particular remorse for having killed him."

"What?" Guren's features paled. "My son was killed by a runaway hime?"

"Eiraki appears to be quite a dangerous individual in her own right, and so locating her whereabouts is almost as important as finding Aizen," Genryuusai agreed grimly. "Even the most feeble individuals can become killers when poison is involved."

"That is a lesson I do not need to learn," Guren's eyes became cold as he remembered the slow, lingering death of his beloved father. "Those you don't suspect can sometimes deal the harshest blows. Very well. I understand your concerns and we will act on them. Endou Eiraki will also be found and brought to justice – there's clearly no question of us allowing either of them to escape."

"I have a strong feeling that escape isn't high on the agenda."

Genryuusai got to his feet, his gaze flitting to the window.

"Whether invited or not, Guren-dono, it seems you have a visitor. Or perhaps, Seiren-dono has a visitor."

"What?" Guren was immediately alert, hurrying to the window and gazing out across the grounds.

A lone figure stood at the edge of the devastation, his mud-slurried gaze running pensively over the uncleared mounds of rubble and dust that still littered the grounds of Seiren's manor. He was robed in simple black, an old greyish cloak wrapped around his thin frame, and his sandy brown hair flapping in the breeze, stray wisps of it having worked loose from its ties.

At the sight of him, anger seared through the Clan leader's heart, and he clenched his fists, struggling to control his surging spirit power.

"Aizen," he muttered. "Standing there as blatant as you please, in order to lure me out a second time."

"Will you go?" Genryuusai asked quietly, and Guren nodded.

"For that purpose I've remained here these last two days," he agreed blackly. "If he truly seeks the destruction of this Clan, killing me is a must. In order to protect my family, killing him is a must. It's an unavoidable confrontation and one I have been waiting for."

"Indeed," Genryuusai's expression became sombre. "I will come with you, but this is your land. Unless you require my interference, I will not attempt to use my sword."

"Thank you," Guren sent his older companion a grateful look. "We should not keep them waiting. Ryuu and Seiren are still inside this building, Shibata and Retsu-dono too. If we can keep them out of this conflict, then so much to the good."

"You think such a thing is likely?" Genryuusai arched a bristling white eyebrow, and Guren shook his head.

"A man who cannot fight with a sword has other ways to fight. I imagine his Kidou is well above average," he said grimly. "Still, I am resolved to do what I can to protect who I can. There's nothing else I can do but that now."

With that he slipped into shunpo, re-materialising on the frost-tipped grass outside. A chill wind teased at his cream haori and the thick swathe of white fabric that hung about his neck, causing it to flutter gently in the breeze. Since Seiren's attack, he had chosen to dress in full Clan regalia, all the more conscious of the burdens that hung heavy over him, but the scarf that had once been his father's had been chosen for a different reason – to hide the purplish bruising at his throat. Seiren's hands had dug deeply into his delicate pale flesh, but Guren was above all things a proud Kuchiki, and he had had no mind to show his battle wounds to anyone, least of all the enemy.

"So we meet again."

Keitarou's greeting was light-hearted and a little flippant, and Guren could see no sign of his trademark tantou knife, though he was sure it must be hidden deep within the folds of that heavy grey cloak.

"I must say you've worked extra-specially hard to get my attention in the last few days, Guren-dono. It can surely be no coincidence that wherever I go I find my path dogged by guardsmen or shinigami – yet when I come here, to the scene of our last encounter, there are no low ranking officers on duty at all. I'm not mistaken in thinking that I saw Futsuki-dono ride from this place not long ago? You really have put out the welcoming banners to bring me here, haven't you? One might almost think it to be a trap."

"One might." Guren somehow managed to control the swirling rage that gnawed at the pit of his stomach. "One might also view it as a Clan trying to protect the people over whom it rules. You are clearly of no benefit to the Kuchiki District, so you should not be surprised that my men would like to eradicate you."

"You've brought me here on what errand, Guren-dono?" Keitarou's eyes narrowed slightly and his tones softened. "I assume you don't think I'm foolish enough to believe your bringing Ryuu back to District Six was for any benefit other than to keep my interest in this part of Seireitei. I know that you've summoned the old man from District One to aid you in your work – the big question is, what exactly you plan to achieve."

"That shouldn't need to be explained to someone who most people rate as a genius." Genryuusai materialised not far from where Guren stood, tapping his cane absently against the cold ground. "Aizen Keitarou, I presume. This is our first meeting. I would like it to be our last."

"That feeling is mutual." Keitarou bowed his head mockingly in Genryuusai's direction. "It's an honour, Genryuusai-dono. Or no, perhaps I should call you Genryuusai-sensei? That's how I often hear you termed on my travels across Soul Society."

"You can be under no misapprehension about my reason for coming here." Genryuusai's brows twitched together slightly, but his expression remained both calm and focused, his eyes trained on the exiled scientist.

"None whatsoever," Keitarou agreed cheerfully, folding his arms across his chest. "You've come to kill me. It's a wise intention, too. I'm not really someone who can be negotiated with or talked around, and I'm very good at escaping from tricky situations. All things being equal, I expected you – or someone – to come with the intention of killing me. Of course, it doesn't necessarily follow that you'll succeed – I suppose we'll find out, won't we?"

"I suppose we will," Genryuusai acknowledged, "but first, I would like to know something for my own sake and not for the sake of the Kuchiki Clan. Was it your sword that killed my student, Amai Suzuno in cold blood during an assignment to the real world?"

"Amai Suzuno." Keitarou's hand went thoughtfully to his shoulder, and he nodded his head. "I regret to confess it was. It was not an ideal situation and I should have liked to have avoided spilling blood – but it was too much of a risk to leave another witness."

"Yet you allowed Shikibu Naoko to escape with scarce little damage?" Genryuusai's eyes bored into Keitarou's, and the scientist let out a soft, humourless chuckle.

"I didn't let her escape," he corrected slowly. "I felt the approaching reiatsu of allies and I didn't fancy my direct combat chances against a group of students armed with active swords. I had taken injury myself, you realise. I was still not full strength and I had no choice but to retreat."

"Hrm," Genryuusai's eyes became near slits, and Guren cast the old man a quizzical glance, wondering what he was thinking.

"You may convey my apologies to the Unohana Clan, if you will." Keitarou was speaking again. "As yet, my fight is not with them."

"As yet, but in the future?" Genryuusai's words became dangerously low, and Keitarou shrugged.

"Perhaps," he agreed. "I have little reason to attack a District of healers, but the future will bring what it does and none of us have the power to forsee it."

"You have no need to forsee the future, Aizen!" Guren had heard enough, and his half-gloved fingers curled around the hilt of his weapon. "This is where your path ends, here, on Kuchiki land and at the end of my blade. There is nobody to fight your battle for you today – your puppet is dead and my brother is safely secured away from your manipulating spells."

"You won't release your zanpakutou here," Keitarou said lightly, and Guren's brows knitted together.

"Why not?"

"Why not?" Keitarou snorted, a derisive look in his mud-slurried eyes. "I'm surprised at you. I had credited you with a little intelligence, but maybe it was a premature judgement."

His expression hardened.

"Let me spell it out for you," he said quietly. "This area and its immediate surroundings are highly unstable. I know a little about your zanpakutou, Guren-dono, and I know that it's not the kind of weapon you can use gently, especially when you happen to be angry. If you were to release it here, it would begin a chain reaction that you'd find very difficult to control. Don't you feel it?"

He ran his fingers through the air.

"Perhaps those noble gloves of yours make it hard to pick up spiritual vibes, but this whole area is teeming with unstable residue," he said softly. "What happened here was exceptional. Even I have never seen anything of its like before. If you release your sword, there's a good chance of you bringing the rest of this property down to the ground – with your sick brother and your precious heir still locked away inside it."

He smiled, a cold, predatorial smile.

"Of course, that goes for the old man as well," he said lightly. "Seiren's body has been emitting dangerous levels of spiritual energy for the past several weeks. Since your fight it's intensified and this whole area is heavily polluted with mutated reiatsu. Perhaps you won't know or care about the implications of such a thing, but I'm sure Genryuusai-dono will be able to enlighten you. You know, don't you, old man? What happens when a large amount of toxic reiatsu is allowed to spread and create chemical reactions in the air and atmosphere?"

Genryuusai's brow furrowed, and Guren saw a flicker of real anger cross the man's lined face.

"Aizen, what have you done?" he demanded, and Keitarou laughed.

"I can't fight with swords," he said honestly. "For me to stand here opposite you both without fear of losing my life, I had to take precautions of some kind."

"Meaning?"

"At present Seiren-dono's toxic reiatsu is limited to this area alone," Keitarou said casually. "Even without my help, though, it's reached an intensity level whereby if it collided and reacted with a highly volatile level of spirit power, it would likely bring this manor completely to the ground. More importantly, another explosion would probably draw residue into the clouds, and then fall as polluted rain. The common people drink water from streams and wells fed by such rainfall – it would be like feeding a large dose of reidoku to every peasant in a five ri radius. Those who could not stand the effects would either die horribly or be mutated into Hollows who would attack and kill at random. District Six would fall into chaos and confusion, and the Council would doubtless be forced to act against a Clan leader who put the life of his dying brother above the safety of his peasant class."

"And with your help?"

"Ah. I had a feeling you might ask that," Keitarou's smile widened. "I suppose you don't live to be as old as you are without some level of perception. Do you know my sword's name, old man?"

"Chudokuga," Genryuusai said quietly, and Keitarou nodded.

"That's right. A spider. A spider with a poisoned fang," he said playfully, "but not just fangs. Chudokuga likes to spin webs – webs of deception, webs of manipulation, webs of illusion. And, occasionally, webs to trap prey. My zanpakutou has one actively offensive shikai ability – the barbed threads that I used to take the life of your poor student, as well as a plethora of guards responsible for the execution of Urahara exiles in District Seven over the years. It also has a deadly Bankai ability – I think you're somewhat familiar with that as well. However, it has one more ability in shikai which I seldom have cause to use. This is one of those occasions I've used it."

He cast an arm out across the Kuchiki grounds, and Guren thought for a moment he saw the glint of a thread in the daylight, then another, and another, crisscrossing faintly in and out of the rubble. His eyes widened, and at the change in his expression, Keitarou grinned.

"It's not a technique I generally find very useful," he admitted. "However, in a situation such as this, it has a purpose. One tiny flare of combustive energy against one of my threads and the entire web will set ablaze, carrying the damage far beyond the confines of this small area. Right now it's stable…Seiren-dono's reiatsu alone isn't enough to trigger such a reaction. However, if someone was to release a sword like, say, Ryuujinjakka…or indeed your own sword, Guren-dono…that might change."

"In short, you're saying we can't attack you," Genryuusai murmured, "either with zanpakutou or with Kidou. Surely that also means you can't attack us, though? We have a stalemate, which seems unproductive to say the least."

"Genryuusai-sama is right," Guren got a grip on his wits, loosening his hold on his zanpakutou and gazing at the scientist with clear dislike. "If neither one of us can fight, what's the point of you coming here? Did you appear just to gloat at us?"

"Perhaps I did," Keitarou shrugged his shoulders carelessly. "Perhaps I was curious to meet Genryuusai-sama for the first time. Curiosity is a dangerous trait but one most scientists live by – maybe I simply wanted to see the shinigami who defies the normal rules of aging to walk among us still."

"Where is the girl?" Guren demanded, and Keitarou raised an eyebrow.

"Girl? What girl would this be?"

"Endou Eiraki," Genryuusai supplemented gravely. "The young girl you took from District Seven three years ago."

"You mean my wife?" Keitarou's eyes danced with amusement. "I couldn't possibly answer that question. It might put her in danger, and that's not something a husband should do."

"The blood of my son is on her hands!" Guren snapped, unable to suppress his anger any longer. Grabbing his sword, he pulled it from its sheath, darting across the uneven surface towards where Keitarou stood. "I want justice for my son, Aizen Keitarou!"

"Did you not listen to a word I said?" Keitarou neatly sidestepped the angry swing, tut-tutting softly under his breath. "Do you want to create an ecological disaster? I'm ashamed of you, Guren-dono. You're a Shinigami Captain. You should know full well the dangers potent reiatsu can cause."

"If I don't release my sword, there will be no reiatsu, potent or otherwise," Guren said blackly. "I don't have to use my shikai or my bankai to fight blade to blade. You're not my brother, and no other living man has ever bested me in a battle of swords. Seiren I might have struggled to batter down this way, but if it's one like you I'm pretty sure that I can manage."

"Guren-dono, please, stay calm," Genryuusai's voice was full of urgency, and despite himself the Kuchiki lord faltered, turning to glance at his ally in consternation.

"Genryuusai-sama?"

"The one who controls the net is Aizen Keitarou," Genryuusai said carefully, and Guren felt certain there was a message hidden in those words that he could not quite grasp. "It doesn't have to be our reiatsu that causes conflagration. From Ukitake's testimony, Aizen is indeed capable of using Kidou well enough that he could set fire to the net himself and cause the chain reaction without our interference. Calm down and think rationally. This isn't a battle to be won by pique."

"Ah, the old man is wise," Keitarou's words were mocking. "It's true, I'm afraid. Setting fire to my own net would doubtless singe my sword and do me some damage too – but probably not enough to stop me escaping once again. I don't care a jot for the people of this land. They're far too adherent to the ruling family, and far too unwilling to rebel against their overlordship. They don't question enough – they believe their lives to be safe and secure and far removed from the kind of horror inflicted on their neighbours in Seventh. It would be a little price to pay for me to suffer some burns in order to create disharmony and disaster in your peaceful District."

A memory of the tapestry that hung in the Clan leader's study once more penetrated Guren's thoughts, and he sighed, a sudden sense of weariness rushing through his body. His sword slipped from his fingers, clattering against the splintered end of a broken beam and coming to rest against the cold, frost-edged grass, and Keitarou clapped his hands together in approval.

"Good choice," he said frankly. "You need not look so despondent, Guren-dono. I really did only come to talk today. If you don't try to harm me, then I won't try to harm your people. That seems like a fair exchange to me, don't you think?"

"And then what? You'll disappear into the shadows until the next time?" Guren demanded bitterly. "My son's life was nothing more than a piece of a puzzle to you, wasn't it? Nagesu-dono told the Council three years ago that your actions had been caused out of grief for your father's loss, but I find that hard to believe when I look at you now. Your grievance against Shouichi-dono I might have understood – but that you could cut down a boy not yet an adult with not even a moment of thought for his family…I find it hard to believe you understand grief at all, for if you could, you would not inflict it on other families!"

For a moment Keitarou stared, then he let out a low, empty chuckle.

"Father's death taught me betrayal, not grief," he said coolly. "It taught me that those who were close to you often betray you, and that betrayal is the most damaging of all. Ribari-dono's life was a grain of sand – a fleck of dust in a world full of betrayal, Guren-sama. You should be grateful that he died before he understood that for himself."

"The Kuchiki are not the Urahara," Guren snapped back. "We do not stab our own in the back!"

"Your father's death was not caused by dissident Kuchiki?" Keitarou's voice was soft yet it penetrated through the whole of the area as though he had shouted. "Senaya-dono wasn't murdered by people in his own house – men he trusted overwhelmed by their own ambition and fear? That is what the Clans are, Guren-dono. All Clans, even that nest of healers in District Four. That's why I seek to destroy them. They are people who rule over people with no right except how they were born – that isn't a fair society. Bringing down the Clans means that there's a chance for people with real power to take control. Genryuusai-dono should understand this better than anyone, since it's essentially what he's been preaching since he set up the Academy some decades ago."

"No. Not exactly," Genryuusai shook his head gravely. "I am old, Aizen, and I have seen many families rise and fall. I've seen betrayal many times, and I have been betrayed, too. I have lost those I cared for and I have seen enemies falter and fade. In my lifetime, I have understood only one thing that has remained a solid, unwavering truth. This society needs structure, rules and stability in order to produce anything of any worth. The Clans and the Districts are transient statuses which change with every few centuries, but the solid foundation that this world is built on does not. We are here to maintain balance, and those of us who have power are here to defend the rights of those who do not. At present, power can be political or it can be spiritual. It does not have to be both. However, in the hearts of those who have power there must be a sense of justice. That is what this world needs. Justice and truth."

"Whose justice and whose truth?" Keitarou snorted derisively. "You may have opened your academy to people from the Districts, but it seems you still favour a Clan-governed world."

"Today's Clans will not be there forever. The world is already changing and embracing a new path," Genryuusai said evenly. "Most of the Clan families realise this and are moving with it – the one who is stuck in the past is you. You are trying to force a future based on a past that ended when your father died more than a century ago. You assume that nobody else noticed when Keitsune's reidoku failed, and that nobody else tried to make changes when his life was lost."

"Father did not fail," Keitarou said quietly. "His processes were still being developed, but they were fixable. I fixed them! I made reidoku stable…if they had given him more time…"

"His method would not have lasted long-term," Genryuusai shook his head. "You cannot give someone spirit power they aren't able to handle – all that does is destroy bodies and warp souls. But Keitsune's work was not forgotten. The whole of Seireitei learned from his shortcomings, and worked to avoid them happening again. Clan leaders came together, scientists began exhaustive investigations – your own cousin Nagesu made a significant breakthrough regarding the manner in which we purify souls. Eventually this led to a world in which my Academy could exist, and in the future, to squads and shinigami who come from all walks of life. Your way won't change Soul Society. If you kill a few people, there will be no real difference, because this world is big and there are always many who can replace those who have died. Change of a real nature takes generations. Centuries. Milennia, even, to evolve. You can't understand this because you are still young and you haven't seen the things I've seen. Whatever you do from here, your plans are doomed to failure. The only thing you will find at the end of all this is your own death – and then Seireitei will go on without you."

"I'm not afraid of dying," Keitarou spoke solemnly. "It isn't shameful to die for something you believe in, I just don't want to die before I've achieved everything I need to. My family weren't given the same chances yours were – even those of us who were innocent became tainted because of the Council's verdict over reidoku. Many people died in awful conditions in the shadows of District Seven – I carry their burdens as well as my own to forge a new future. Perhaps I'll succeed, perhaps I'll fail. I don't expect anyone else to understand my reasons, but I've moved too far along this path to go back now. You may be right, old man – you may not. Only time will answer that question."

"In the meantime, though, there is no justification for the shedding of young life," Guren snapped. "My son had nothing to do with hurting the Urahara, exiled or otherwise. He had no connection to your father or to anything in District Seven. You can't pretend your values are founded on noble grounds, Aizen. You've caused my family suffering and I won't forgive you for it. Genryuusai-sama may be willing to talk with you, but you'll find me a different prospect."

"Ambition caused your family suffering. Ambition and complacency," Keitarou said acerbically. "You have a high and mighty attitude for a Clan leader who should never have been anointed, don't you think?"

"What are you talking about?" Guren stared, only just managing to keep his reiatsu from flaring up at this fresh insult to his pride, and Keitarou smiled.

"So you don't know," he murmured. "Interesting."

He slipped his fingers into his obi, pulling out a sheet of paper and tossing it carelessly onto the ground. Guren stared at it for a moment, then eyed the scientist warily, and Keitarou held up his hands.

"There's no trap," he said frankly. "I had a feeling Seiren wouldn't have told you, and obviously nobody else has."

"Seiren?" Guren bent down, hesitating and then picking up the sheet of aged, crumpled paper, his eyes widening as he recognised the script that patterned its way across the page. "Father's writing? A page from…Father's nikki?"

"Oh, so you do know that such a thing exists?" Keitarou was mocking him now, but Guren ignored the barb. "I was starting to wonder, given that you don't seem to understand anything at all about your family's situation. Eiraki took that from a volume in your Clan library when she was working for you as part of your menial staff. Your brother knows about it, and from what Eiraki says, your nephew and heir does too. However, the Head of the Clan does not. Interesting what secrets can be dug up and scattered around, isn't it? I was keeping that for other purposes – but now I think it would be best served in your hands. I'd like to see your reaction to it – your Father's own words undermining your right to rule."

Guren frowned, his gaze skimming across the sheet of paper. It was torn and old, faded in places but unmistakeably in his father's writing.

'Upon viewing both children, it was clear that Kinnya's fears were founded in a good amount of truth.' [He read, Senaya's words cascading down the page in anxious, harried characters unlike the form of his usual calligraphic style.]

'There has always been a tale that when twin sons are born to a Kuchiki Clan leader, it is an ill omen, yet looking at the two of them – Guren with his perfect breaths and peaceful sleep and Seiren, his cheeks red and each inhalation a gasp for life – I knew that as a Father I could not sacrifice a child of mine to superstition. I have made that sacrifice once before – I could not reject another son born of my blood.

There may be a time when I have to pay penance for my decisions, and if that time comes, I will know it and will face it as a Clan leader should. Kinnya counselled me, but the decision was mine and I will abide by it myself, whatever hardship it may bring. My sons will both have life, and the Clan will fall to Guren's hands. Even born as he is, the second son and younger of the two, there is no question of anything else. From this moment on, Guren must be my oldest son and heir. Those who delivered them will be paid off, and Kinnya and Kiriko alone will know the truth.

This decision made, there was no other choice of action for me to take.'

At this point the document was ripped, and, his hands trembling, Guren remembered the fragment that had been included with the anonymous note.

The fragment that Seiren knew immediately came from the nikki, although it was something I had never seen before.

He swallowed hard, fighting to get a hold of his composure.

The younger son? This was Seiren's secret…he was born the elder and I the younger of Senaya-sama's twin sons? Why would he know that and I not? How long has he known it? And Ojiue…there's no doubt that Ojiue has known this since the moment we were both born. He and Mother both knew it, but this leaf has been loose some time. How many others now know what Father did?

"Your face is quite an interesting picture right at the moment, Guren-dono." Keitarou's mocking tones stung against his ears like lemon juice to an open wound and he scowled, his eyes darkening to almost black as he glared at his foe with pure hatred.

"You understand little about noble families like the Kuchiki," he said quietly, hoping that the scientist could not see exactly how deeply this revelation had shaken him. "A Kuchiki lord must have spirit power. My brother has none, therefore he was never a claimant for the Clan. I thought you had something scandalous to divulge to me – but it turns out all you have is a stolen scrap of paper that has no bearing on the family at all."

"Maybe, maybe not," Keitarou did not seem concerned. "Whilst Seiren had no spirit power, that was indeed the case. Right now, though, your brother's spirit power is returned to him. That makes the situation different, doesn't it?"

His eyes narrowed, his lips twitching into a calculating smile.

"More, Seiren has a son. An eligible son with spirit power well in hand," he said lightly. "Your brother's pride and joy, young Ryuu – a boy who ironically has a stronger claim to this family than you do, with all your Clan finery and high-handed commands."

Ryuu.

Guren chewed down on his lip.

So that's why you've pushed his claim so hard for so long, is it, Seiren? Somehow you found this out, and because of it…

"If you're concerned that he has treasonous thoughts towards you…I would set that concern aside. Seiren is a loyal Kuchiki, and that means he is loyal to you."

Kinnya's words rippled through his thoughts like a bolt of electricity bringing him from his daze and he frowned, his grip on the sheet of paper tightening.

Ojiue is right. Seiren may well have hidden himself away here in order to prevent him becoming a danger to me at the main house. Seiren was the first person to swear loyalty to Ribari when he was born, and in all the years we've worked together, he's been my constant shadow. Right now my brother is suffering and is in and out of his wits, but that doesn't mean I should fall easily into Aizen's psychological trap. He's done these things – said these things – to make me doubt in my brother's loyalty. I won't do that. Seiren is my twin – perhaps we don't have the same bond that other brothers have, but I will not look at him with suspicion based on the words of an enemy.

He thrust the tattered sheet into his wide obi, casting Keitarou a cold look.

"Ryuu was not born when I became Head of the Kuchiki Clan," he said calmly. "You've made wild claims, Aizen – but you're just showing me more and more how little you understand the way in which this family works. An unborn child cannot inherit the Kuchiki any more than one without spirit power can. You're grasping at straws, but my father left this Clan to me, and there is nothing inappropriate in his having done so."

"The Council and the Kuchiki court may look at it differently if you were to cause an unprecedented ecological disaster here in the grounds of your own poor brother's estate." A flicker of malice entered Keitarou's muddy eyes. "Seiren and Ryuu would both be killed, of course, therefore extinguishing the true line of the Clan and potentially creating a civil war. The people would also suffer terribly from the fallout – but that's what happens, isn't it, when a leader not fit to rule is given power over people's lives."

His fingers glittered faintly with white kidou.

"I've heard what I wanted to hear from you, and seen your reaction to the truth," he added matter-of-factly. "I'm becoming bored with simple talking. I'm a scientist and I'd like to see the result of my experiment – wouldn't you like to know just how far the effects of toxic reiatsu might spread if a little spark is added…"

"Aizen!" Genryuusai's grip on his cane tightened, but Keitarou laughed.

"You can't do anything, old man," he said condescendingly. "Ryuujinjakka is weakened by its strength. The damage my kidou could cause is nothing in comparison to what your firesword might do if you decided to release it here. Having power brings great responsibility, doesn't it? You teach your young ones that all the time, I imagine – now you'll see exactly how true those words are."

"Tatte, Shizurugi!"

What happened next passed in something of a blur, for just as Keitarou's bolt of Byakurai was about to shoot forth from his finger towards the nearest strand of his sword's delicate reiatsu web, there was a flash of violet light that seared across the manor wreckage like a beacon through the frozen air, slicing through Keitarou's spell and dispersing it into a harmless shower of whiteish specks. Startled, Keitarou swung around, looking for the source of the beam, and as the light faded, Guren saw a lone figure standing in the doorway of the east wing, a look of resolution in his solemn grey eyes.

Clutched in his right hand was a sword, its polished hilt curled around the pale, slender fingers as if to shield them from external attack. Its guard was an amethyst ellipsis, from which fanned out five or six more narrow structures, each curling forwards as though drawn together with an invisible reiatsu magnetism. The guard's structure had all the delicate appearance of an orchid with its petals drawn forward to protect itself from outside elements, yet from the way in which the petal tips were glistening and humming with light, it seemed more as though their purpose was to harness the energy from the wielder's body into a more concentrated form. Absently Guren remembered that the orchid was a flower that symbolised 'refinement', and that the colour purple was 'nobility' – two characteristics that for the first time he realised described the young man who stood before them almost to perfection.

A long, narrow, double-edged blade protruded from the point where these gleaming petals drew together to almost touch, shimmering with a distinctive purple light and as the weapon moved in its wielder's hands, a faint magenta line traced briefly against the frozen sky like a sparkler held by a child during a new year's firework display.

"Ryuu?" he whispered.

"I apologise for my interruption, Guren-sama." Ryuu bowed his head towards his Clan leader, but his eyes were trained only on the slender figure in black and grey that had invaded his family's land. "Being that this is my father's manor, I trust you will indulge me a little time to face the man who has caused so much suffering to people close to me."

His grip tightened around the hilt of his sword, and the blade of the weapon glittered in response to his touch.

"Shizurugi and I have some scores of our own to settle," he added quietly, "beginning with the assault on my father and those who inhabit this estate."

---

"…And so in tomorrow's practical we'll have a review of Shakkahou, taking into consideration some of the things we've discussed in this morning's lesson."

Kazoe tapped his cane pensively against the chalkboard, turning to face his class. There were eighteen students in the top First year class that year, ranging from the opinionated Oomaeda Kaneyo to the timid Tsunemori, and though each one of them was talented in their own way, not all of them were naturally given to or even interested in Kidou. They had begun practical classes not so many weeks before, and already a gap was widening between those who had natural talent and those who did not. Kazoe had reviewed this fact with an element of resignation, already mentally preparing for extra tuition sessions as the years progressed. To his students' faces he was never anything but strict and demanding – but he had a reputation too for fairness and that fairness had often led to him giving up his own free time to help those who were falling behind.

It was a sacrifice that had often paid off in the past, and with the recent events overshadowing both his Clan and his school, Kazoe felt all the more sure that it was worthwhile.

If all of them work out to become shinigami like Houjou looks likely to be, perhaps it will be time well spent. This bunch are raw yet, but if a few of the dullards turn out to be in his vein, I suppose they'll make it through regardless of their lack of magical ability.

Out loud he said,

"Are there any questions?"

"Sensei, what happens if we get the spell words in the wrong order?" Kaneyo, never to be kept quiet for long thrust his pudgy hand up into the air. "I heard that if you do that you could explode yourself – is that true or just a rumour?"

"Perhaps in tomorrow's practical session you could try it and we could all find out the answer," Kazoe said levelly, and there were a few snickers from the back row of seats. "Word order and intonation is important when it comes to learning any spell, Oomaeda – but it is not the be all and end all of casting a powerful Kidou. The words are there to help focus and concentrate your spiritual energy more than they are there to produce the spell itself. That comes from deep within each of you – some of you are still locked onto the idea that the words are the spell and it's simply not the case."

"Then why do we need to learn them?" Kaneyo was not to be deterred. "If they're not important, Sensei, why are you getting us to memorise them all the time?"

"No student shinigami should ever fire any Kidou spell without the incantation," Kazoe said briskly. "To do so could prove dangerous – can anyone suggest to me why?"

Tsunemori raised a tentative hand, and Kazoe nodded, jabbing his cane in the shy boy's direction.

"Tsukabishi?"

"Because we're not focused enough yet?"

"A little vague, but the right track," Kazoe agreed. "As I just told you, the words are there to focus your spirit power. Kidou is all about focus and reiryoku control. Those of you who are more naturally inclined towards good reiryoku and reiatsu management will always pick up Kidou more quickly and neatly than those of you who are not. Kidou is a powerful weapon but it can cause damage to the wielder if it isn't used correctly. Just as a sword blade can cut off its master's fingers if carelessly swung, so a Kidou spell can blow up in your face if you're not one hundred percent focused on how to fire. Well, some of you got a little singed last practical lesson, so I don't suppose you need further explanation."

He tapped his cane on the board.

"All right. I'll give you a minute to make a note of that and then we'll move on. You were all supposed to have read chapters from the Bakudou text regarding Shou and Hainawa since our last lesson – hands up anybody who hasn't yet done this?"

A few hands went up, including Tsunemori's, and Kazoe sighed.

"Tsukabishi, you can put your hand down," he said frankly. "Until your kanji is at a higher level than it currently is, you won't be able to make head nor tail of a textbook that old."

Tsunemori reddened, lowering his hand, and Kazoe turned his attention on the remaining three or four students.

"Unlike Tsukabishi, you all have no such excuse," he said quietly. "Very well. You can spent tomorrow's practical session reading them and writing me up a detailed summary of how both spells work – understand?"

"Tsukabishi gets away with everything," one of the girls muttered, and before Tsunemori could respond, Kaneyo let out a loud snort, turning around in his seat to send her a derisive glare.

"Tsukabishi's smarter than you, is all," he said in his usual, belligerent way. "He already knows this stuff because he remembers it the first time he's told it, so pipe down and do your work for once."

"Oomaeda, if you don't mind, I'll teach the class, not you." There was a faint warning in Kazoe's tones, and Oomaeda shuffled back around to face the teacher, offering him a rueful grin.

"Sorry, sir," he said, in a way that told Kazoe he wasn't really all that sorry for what he had said. "It's true though. Tsukabishi didn't read the chapters but some of us last night were discussing those two spells and he knew more than all of us put together."

"I like Kidou," Tsunemori murmured, his entire face scarlet now to the tips of his ears. "I find it easy to remember things, because…because I can't properly write them down yet."

Kazoe opened his lips to respond, but before he could speak there was a tremendous crash and then the door came flying off its hinges, splintering into three or four pieces which shot across the classroom and embedded themselves in the wall and chalkboard. Several of the students screamed, many of them scrambling for cover beneath their desks or holding up their thick text books to act as a kind of shield.

At the front of the room, Kazoe stood almost frozen to the spot with disbelief as in the aftermath of the explosion two men dressed in the unmistakeable shihakushou of First Division shinigami swaggered into the room, one clutching a sword and the other with his hands still prickling with energy. It did not take long for Kazoe to realise that it had been this individual who had been responsible for the broken door and, as his eyes narrowed behind his spectacles, the long cracks like strands of a spider's web that had begun to spread along the damaged wall.

The man with the sword lumbered forwards, his weapon raised and Kazoe frowned, leaping neatly down from the dais and putting his hand to his waist for his own sealed zanpakutou. An Unohana by birth and trained as a healer as well as an expert in Kidou, Kazoe disliked using his weapon for combat purposes, but enough blood had already been spilled at the school that term, and he had no mind to let a room full of frightened first year students become the unfortunate victims of a massacre.

One look at the two shinigami told Kazoe that neither man was acting in his wits, and his eyes darkened as he remembered all that had been said about Aizen Keitarou's sword.

Genryuusai-sama's not here, and so someone decided to take advantage in his absence. Just like he feared would happen – but I'm sure even he didn't expect it something quite like this.

Hurrying forward to match his blade against the swing of the taller shinigami, who seemed to be waving his own weapon around haphazardly, he stretched out his hand towards the long bay window, a flare of vivid white light bursting forth from his fingers and shattering the glass into thousands upon thousands of tiny pieces.

"All of you, get out!" he exclaimed, parrying the blade back and moving himself neatly so that he stood between both shinigami and the eighteen dazed and confused students. "We're on the ground floor so there's no distance to fall. Get out of here and assemble somewhere away from the school building!"

"Out of the window?" One of the girls, clearly close to hysteria let out an exclamation of dismay.

"Do as you're told!" That was Kaneyo, and from the resulting shriek Kazoe realised his pushy student had grabbed his crying classmate by the arm, forcibly dragging her towards the window. Kaneyo was at the best of times an arrogant, overbearing individual, but his overflowing confidence made him invaluable in a crisis, and at his forthright command one by one the other students began to follow suit, ducking under desks and over pieces of shattered glass towards the gaping hole that now let in the cold autumn weather.

Kazoe's sword moved swiftly once again, as the armed shinigami tried to make a lunge in the direction of the fleeing students, the sound of clashing metal ringing out in the suddenly freezing classroom. Until the juniors were safely away, he did not want to risk releasing his blade or using any kind of powerful Kidou, but as he used his slender form to dodge around the attacks and distract the attention of the puppet, he found himself wondering if he could manage to take two ranked shinigami out with just his bare blade.

I wouldn't be welcomed as a member of Retsu-sama's squad, though she always said if things had been different, she'd have seated me at a respectable rank. There are leagues between what she can do and what I can, though – and the Unohana train their shinigami in a different way from any other Clan. Even given the time I've spent under Genryuusai-sama's patronage, can I take on two possessed shinigami and overcome them without bringing danger towards the students?

"Come on, stop dawdling! Sensei told you to get the hell out so go!" Kaneyo's coarse yet effective bellow brought the Kidou instructor back down to earth with a bump and he cast a brief glance behind him, seeing that most of the group of students had made it safely out of the window and now only Oomaeda himself, along with Tsukabishi and two others remained within the confines of the classroom.

At that moment, the second shinigami, who up till then had made no attempt to move suddenly turned, raising hands glittering brightly with an ominous purple light. Kazoe's eyes widened with alarm as he registered what the spell was and, more importantly, where the man was aiming. Pushing back the sword of his immediate opponent, he darted forward, just as the bright flare of purple energy shot out across the classroom towards the wall and the place where Tsunemori and Kaneyo were standing.

They would never make it out of the window before the destructive, all-consuming purple flame hit them, and at this distance Kazoe knew the blast would undoubtedly prove fatal.

"Hadou no Nana-juu san! Souren Soukatsui!"

There was no help for it now. The safety of his students foremost on his mind, Kazoe flared his reiatsu, allowing the high level spell to burst forth into the confined space of the Kidou classroom. The entire surroundings lit up in a vivid azure glow, the Souren Soukatsu cannoning into the haze of Haien and knocking it firmly off its trajectory. The two spells exploded into the corner of the classroom, taking out a wide section of the wall and leaving the board, where only moments earlier Kazoe had been writing down spell notes in neat columns of kanji, hanging at a precarious angle before it too crashed and shattered against the ground.

The entire chamber filled with dust and ash, a mixture of spell residue and debris, and Kazoe stifled the urge to cough.

"Sui...kon…de, Sei…doiki!" he gasped out, bringing his glittering weapon around in a circle in an attempt to disperse the heavy cloud. The last time he had had to release Seidoiki, it had been to defeat a Hollow during a camp incident when the current Seniors had been Second years, yet using that kind of volatile, explosive technique would not work in this situation. The air was already thin and densely clogged with debris and smoke, and any attempt to ignite it would only make the situation worse.

This time I need you simply to be able to breathe. Clear the air, Seidoiki, before I choke.

His weapon glittered in immediate obedience, sparks of energy spreading out into the surrounding fog. He was a mass of charring and charcoal himself now, his usually neat appearance singed from head to foot and his glasses murky and cracked across one lens from the force of the blast. As glittering particles of air gathered together around his body he found himself able to both see and breathe, his piercing gaze scouring the mess for any sign of the two shinigami.

One of them was down, clearly struck by a fragment of door blasted loose by the explosion. The other one was staggering to his feet, sword still clutched in his hand, and Kazoe sighed, gazing at his weapon with a faint sense of resignation. It was not a combat weapon, nor did he relish the option of using it that way, for every time his blade struck against another his spirit would sigh at him in reproachful disappointment, but part of his brief as an instructor at the academy was to ensure the students in his care came to no harm. Whether Seidoiki's delicate, wraithlike soul approved of it or not, if he had to resort to basic blade on blade action to keep them safe, then that's what he would do. They had argued about it many times since he had made his permanent home in District One, but Kazoe had too much gratitude for Genryuusai's kindness to balk away from unpleasant duties now.

Once bloodstained, a sword can never become completely clean. If I must spill blood, Seidoiki, let it be in the pursuit of saving lives, all right?

"Sensei!"

Kaneyo's voice went through his body like a chill and he swung around, horror in his expression as he saw both the Oomaeda and his skinny friend were still standing at the window, outside the classroom but making no attempt to leave it behind. With a jolt he realised that they had probably witnessed the explosion from outside and, with his own safety on their minds, they had come back.

"What are you doing!" he exclaimed, his voice somewhat muffled through the heavy air. "I gave you an order! Obey it!"

"But Sensei!"

"Oomaeda-kun, Kazoe-sensei's getting cross with us!" Tsunemori tugged his friend by the sleeve. "Come on! If we're here, we'll get hurt, and Sensei will be even more angry!"

"But we can't leave him behind! The whole classroom might collapse down on top of him like this!" Kaneyo was not to be moved. "Sensei! That last blast blew a great big bit out of the cornerstone and the whole building's cracking up like a dropped egg! You need to get out of here too, else it's going to be pretty messy!"

"Oomaeda-kun, you can't talk to a teacher like that!" Tsunemori's voice was becoming panicked. "Kazoe-sensei knows what he's doing – please, come on!"

Kazoe gritted his teeth, swinging his sword to meet the clumsy attack of the puppet shinigami, and as his gaze rested on the other's weapon, he saw for the first time a faintly greenish hue clinging to the outside of the sword. Fragments of emerald dust seemed to break away and scatter into the atmosphere with each and every swing, and as he observed its movements, Kazoe suddenly remembered where and why he had seen that technique before.

The realisation filled him with a deep sense of foreboding, yet he knew he had made no mistake.

A sword that doesn't heal.

Still, there was no time to worry about that now. A heavy rumble from the roof above his head told him that Kaneyo's words were true and that the whole of the small one story Kidou chamber was likely to come tumbling down around them if he delayed much longer.

Hastily he calculated his chances of escaping unscathed, loath to leave the possessed shinigami to their fate but unsure whether or not his kidou barriers would be strong enough against the full weight of wood and stone as the building collapsed. Inwardly he thanked his lucky stars that this was not part of the core school building and that, if it did collapse, there were unlikely to be any casualties from upper floors suddenly falling to their doom.

"Sensei!" Oomaeda yelled, as a beam creaked and gave way, falling across the scattered desks with a loud crash. The fall sent vibrations through the whole building, conjuring up another huge cloud of dust and Kazoe covered his lower face with his arm, sweeping his weapon through the pollution once again in an attempt to return some air. His opponent seemed less bothered by the lack of oxygen, for despite the bluishness of his skin, he kept moving forward, and Kazoe cursed, using his weapon once again to parry each of the other man's slashes and stabs. Seidoiki was weeping into his consciousness now, berating him in soft, sad tones for using his weapon in such a violent manner, and he forced his sword's misgivings aside, focusing instead on the combat training that he had received on his first arrival in District One as a young man.

No amount of sword training can take the Unohana ethics away from my soul completely, though. Fighting to kill still goes against my grain. Whatever may have happened in the past, I swore it wouldn't happen again, and if I can keep that promise, I would prefer to. It's not in my nature to end life, and I'm not going to resort to that now if it can possibly be helped.

There was another rumble from above, a large, ominous crack zigzagging through the ceiling plaster and sending a cascade of white powder and stone raining down on him. Behind them came another beam, as the building's main structure little by little gave up the ghost, and Kazoe cursed once more, knowing that he was running out of time.

"Hadou no Sanjuu Ichi! Shakkahou!"

The spell came out of nowhere, but suddenly something bright and crimson exploded through the heavy air next to him, blasting through the debris and creating an opening where before there had been none. Through the haze of smoke, Kazoe was dimly aware of a skinny silhouette, blurry but unmistakeable as that of his retiring First year student.

Tsukabishi.

There was no time for scolding the students, nor for anything else except fleeing the collapsing chamber, and Kazoe made up his mind, casting a fine veneer of kidou magic across the room before slipping into shunpo and re-materialising at the edge of the broken wall. Grabbing both First year students unceremoniously, he dragged them into a second flash-step, dropping down on the grass at the edge of the school field where the rest of his class were gathered, some shivering and all looking terrified by the morning's events.

The next moment the building gave out a final, resounding judder before collapsing into a pile of dust and rubble, and Kazoe sighed, giving both the dusty Kaneyo and the pale-faced Tsunemori a rough shake.

"When a teacher tells you to do something, you do it," he said darkly. "Think if it in the same terms as a future Captain, whose orders you would obey or be considered insubordinate. I don't care how many buildings are collapsing or how much fun it might be to play around with Kidou – you were given an instruction and you were expected to follow it."

"My father always says that you never leave a man behind. If you go in to something, you make sure everyone gets out." Kaneyo was not a bit crestfallen, though Tsunemori looked mortified at the sudden and sharp attention. "I dunno what happened in there or why First Division wanted to attack us or stuff, but you weren't getting out, Sensei. Tsukabishi and I wanted to make sure you did, since it wouldn't have been much good for anyone if you'd been flattened."

"Oomaeda-kun," Tsunemori murmured softly, and Kazoe turned his attention to the scrawny District boy. Tsunemori was pale and shaking, a bluish sheen to his cheeks and his teeth almost chattering in the cold wind. Gently Kazoe rested his unsealed blade on the young boy's shoulder.

"Breathe," he ordered. "If you don't breathe, you'll pass out, and your lungs aren't as big as Oomaeda's bottomless ones seem to be."

"Sensei, is that your zanpakutou?" Kaneyo eyed it curiously, and Kazoe nodded, tapping the hilt gently as a cloud of glittering blue fragments spread out into the surrounding air.

"Seidoiki is a healing zanpakutou. She doesn't like to fight, and nor do I," he said regretfully. "However, in moments like this, she's useful in her own way. There, can you breathe more easily now, Tsukabishi?"

"Yes...yes sir," Tsunemori looked embarassed. "It's just...there was a lot...a lot of...smoke..."

"Indeed, which is why I told you to get clear." Kazoe lowered his weapon, giving it a little shake to seal it and returning it to the empty scabbard at his waist. Gently but firmly he grasped Tsunemori's arms by the wrists, lifting the boys small hands more clearly into his line of sight. As he had feared, there were clear marks of charring across the skin, and he sighed.

"You also had no permission to fire live Shakkahou," he said softly. "No wonder you're feeling the effects - you used reiryoku without permission and this is the result. This wasn't a practical class, and you were reckless. Ukitake's clever tricks earlier in the term might have given you bright ideas, and I dare say there are worse role models for you to pitch your aspirations on, but the fact remains you're still only a junior and you're far from ready to be using that magic in such a volatile situation. Remember next time please that Ukitake and his fellows have had far more training than you and are therefore much more able to manage their reiryoku so that they don't come close to passing out from one spell."

"If he hadn't, Sensei, this great big chunk of wood would've splatted you over the head," Kaneyo piped in cheerfully. "His aim is pretty good for a rookie – he blasted it right out of your way."

"Even if that's true…" Kazoe stared at the students, suddenly weary as the realisation of the morning's events began to sink in. "Even if it is, Tsukabishi, you shouldn't have put yourself in danger. That goes for either of you. You shouldn't consider yourself heroes – if anything, you're lucky idiots who could easily not have been alive."

He let out another heavy sigh.

"I suppose I should punish you, but it seems the least of our worries at the moment," he admitted, raising a finger to carefully count each student one by one. "Eighteen of you…good. You're all here and you're all safe, so this time we'll say no more."

He ran his gaze over the faces of the young students once more, taking in their shivering forms.

"It would happen on a bitterly cold day," he muttered. "I wish I could send you inside, but I'm loath to let you out of my sight while there may be more trouble lurking about."

"There might be more of them?" a young boy asked tentatively, and the girl at his side shivered, hugging her arms tightly to her body.

"Why are they attacking us?" she asked plaintively. "What did we do to hurt them?"

"Is it because we're District?" one of the boys piped in. "Sensei, is that why our class was attacked?"

"Not all of us are District, stupid." Another boy cuffed him smartly across the back of the head.

"But a lot of us are, in the First year," a girl with long dark braids pointed out. "More than in any other year, in fact. Sensei said so."

"That doesn't make sense," Kaneyo shook his head impatiently.

"It wasn't us that those shinigami were trying to kill, anyway," Tsunemori said softly. "They came into the classroom in a dramatic way, but they didn't really look to attack any of us directly, did they? They just tried to scare us."

"They succeeded," the girl said bitterly. "You can't tell me you weren't scared, Tsukabishi-kun."

"I was," Tsunemori nodded his head hastily. "I was terrified. But I don't think they came to hurt us. I think it was..."

"Kazoe-sensei?" Kaneyo's eyes became wide, and he turned to stare at the singed Kidou instructor. "It's true. They only seemed to want to fight you, Sensei."

"I stopped them from doing anything else," Kazoe said dismissively. "They were forced to fight me because I confronted them in order to let you escape. What their true motive was will probably never be known - they were obviously under some kind of outside manipulation, and even if they were to be asked about it later, I doubt they'd remember what they'd done."

"Are they...dead?" one of the girls whispered, turning to gaze at the remains of the classroom with uncertain eyes. Kazoe shook his head.

"No. Before I came out, I cast kidou around them to shield them from the falling masonry," he said matter-of-factly. "It's a simple barrier spell and it will last a little while, but whilst they're trapped in there, they won't be able to attack you again. I intend to report this incident, of course - and when I do, their Captain can come and reclaim them himself if he sees fit."

He clapped his hands together to brush off the bulk of the dust.

"In the meantime, it seems unlikely any of you are in the frame of mind to continue with a lesson, and there are a couple of things troubling me," he reflected. "That being the case, I need to find somewhere that's..."

He faltered, his gaze suddenly drawn towards the training ground, and a soft whisper began to spread around the huddled group of cold First year students. To Kazoe's experienced senses, it was obvious that kidou was being fired, but even the raw wits of these youngsters were sensitive enough to pick up on a confrontation taking place somewhere not far from where they now stood.

"Someone else is fighting," one of the girls whispered, and Kaneyo nodded his head.

"Sensei, can we go help?" he asked eagerly. "Maybe they're in trouble and they need..."

"Maybe you need your brain reading," Kazoe said cuttingly. "What use do you think you'd be to anyone in a battle, Oomaeda? You have no sword and you're barely competent with firing two or three very basic spells."

"Oomaeda-kun could sit on them," one boy suggested mischievously, and a ripple of faint laughter went around the students, lightening the atmosphere a little.

"It's Juushirou-senpai," Tsunemori murmured. "Juushirou-senpai's fighting there. I know he is."

"Anideshi?" Kaneyo settled the insult by punching the offending boy's arm, casting him a dark grimace then turning back to his friend. "Are you sure?"

"Mm," Tsunemori nodded. "I've seen Juushirou-senpai fight before, Oomaeda-kun. I'm sure...I'm sure it's him."

Kazoe's eyes narrowed and he gazed pensively at the junior for a moment before returning his gaze to the faint haze of spiritual energy in the distance.

That kid may have come from the most ignominious of backgrounds, but his perception is quite advanced for such a young age. No wonder his Kidou is already so accurate with so little practice. It's Ukitake's reiatsu all right - his, and Kyouraku's, and that arrogant Kuchiki whelp as well. I suppose if Nagoya's with them, my help probably isn't needed - if you believe the propaganda that family put out, he's far superior to me in all combat respects.

Out loud he said,

"We'll go inside. The heart of the school building is like a maze, and the safest place for you all right now is probably within the central complex."

"But what if we're attacked again, Sensei?" one of the girls asked anxiously. "What will we do if they come back?"

"I would rather not leave you alone, but I don't see that I'll have a choice," Kazoe admitted. "Don't worry, though. We'll go to the Great Hall and I'll put a strong barrier over the whole chamber so that nobody who shouldn't be there can get through. If I do that, you should all be quite safe - but you must stay where I tell you, understand? Oomaeda, Tsukabishi, that goes double for the pair of you."

"Yes, sensei," Tsunemori murmured, and Kaneyo shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't mind. It's cold out here but it'll be warm in the Hall," he said equanimously.

"Kazoe-sensei?"

As they reached the door of the school's central hall, once the proud banqueting hall of the Clan but now the functional centre of the school's immense building, the divide slid back to reveal Enishi, who stopped dead at the sight of the Kidou instructor with so many shivering juniors in town.

"Sensei, what is it? What's happening?"

"Some of your kinsfolk seem to be having a bit of a bad day," Kazoe said acerbically. "Can you get out of the way, Houjou? I'm bringing the juniors in here since their classroom has been unexpectedly flattened by our impromptu visitors."

"Flattened?" Enishi stared for a moment, then as Kazoe arched an eyebrow, he looked sheepish, hurriedly stepping out of the way to allow the smaller man to pass. "Oh! Yes, sorry. I just...I didn't quite understand what you just said."

"Some shinigami came and blew up our classroom," Kaneyo interjected helpfully, "so Kidou class got cancelled and Kazoe-sensei's told us to stay here."

"The Great Hall is structurally the safest part of the school, so if I put a barrier up, you should be safe enough," Kazoe agreed. "I didn't expect anyone to be here though, Houjou. Why are you?"

"I was helping Edogawa and Sora look for someone. For Shikibu, actually," Enishi admitted, as the First years filed gratefully into the hall. "I've had no luck, though."

"Shikibu Naoko is missing?" Kazoe's eyes became slits, and Enishi nodded.

"She disappeared from the Healing Bay between last night and this morning," he agreed. "Nobody seems to know where she's gone, though. I was at a loose end this morning so I figured I'd help the search, but I've come up blank. I didn't really think she'd be in the Great Hall, but it did occur to me that we might have missed her there so I went back to check."

He frowned, his brow furrowing.

"She has to be somewhere."

"That's the kind of logic I expect from you," Kazoe sighed. "As it happens, though, I'm concerned about Shikibu as well. I'm not surprised to hear that something may have befallen her, but I'd like to know she's safe and sound."

"I'll keep looking," Enishi suggested. "She probably hasn't left the school grounds, and..."

"Kazoe-sensei! Kazoe-sensei!"

From the far end of the corridor, the sound of footsteps and a girl's panicked cry caused Enishi to falter, confused, and Kazoe turned to see one of the Fourth years hurrying towards him, breathless and red in the face from her run.

"Thank goodness I found you," she said, taking a ragged breath into her lungs. "Sensei, something's happening at the training ground. Anideshi and Kyouraku-senpai are there, with Nagoya-senpai and two of my friends and there were...two of the Yamamoto squad...sir, I think..."

"They came to attack you?" Kazoe asked softly, and the girl nodded her head, pale blond hair falling over her shoulder.

"Yes. Yes they did. Kaoru-chan noticed it first, but she and Sakura stayed there, and told me to go back with the class and get help, and as we went inside, I saw Nagoya-senpai and the others appear up by the training ground. I wasn't sure who to go to but then I saw you and now..."

"All right. Calm down." Kazoe rested a hand on her shoulder. "Where are the rest of your class now?"

"In the common room, sir. We didn't know where else to go, and there was such a big bang from the grounds a little while ago."

"That was us," Kaneyo said cheerfully, and Kazoe shot him a withering look.

"One more word from you and you'll go back out into the cold, danger or otherwise," he threatened.

"Wait a minute!" Enishi looked stricken. "Did you say...Yamamoto shinigami? Attacking...students? And...?"

"Two of them helped to blow up one of the Kidou classrooms just now," Kazoe nodded, "and it seems as though a couple more are causing trouble out by the training grounds."

"But that's not possible!" Enishi protested. "Not First squad, they'd never..."

"They're not following your Clan leader's orders," Kazoe said simply. "They're quite clearly under someone else's spiritual control, and where that someone is is not yet known. I have to make an urgent report before this gets out of hand - but seeing as you're here, Houjou, I have a job for you."

"A job? But sir, if it's my kinsfolk...and I was looking for Shikibu..."

"Because it's your kinsfolk, I want you kept out of it," Kazoe said firmly. He turned his gaze back to the anxious Akaya.

"Go get your fellows. Bring them from the common room to the Great Hall and tell them to bring with them any books, games or anything else they can find lying around, because you might be here a little while," he said quietly. "You'll have to share whatever you bring with the First years, so make sure you find what you can. Houjou will be staying with you, and I'm going to put a barrier around this room to stop anything with evil intentions getting in. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir," Akaya nodded. "But...what about Kaoru-chan and Sakura?"

"Judging by the mesh of spirit power coming from that part of the grounds, Nagoya and the Seniors have things under control and your friends will be safe enough," Kazoe said frankly. "Your job is to go and get the rest of your class and bring them to the Hall. I don't want you wandering around the halls looking for strays, understood?"

"Yes sir," Akaya sighed, but nodded again, turning on her heel and haring back the way she had come.

"You want me to stay here? In charge?" Enishi looked doubtful, and Kazoe nodded.

"It shouldn't involve Kidou, so I think you can manage," he said off-handedly. "You proved in the Real World that you can act quickly if the need arises, but I hope it won't. My barrier should suffice, I think. If I find anyone else who might be of use to you, I'll send them along to help - I suspect the whole school might wind up being evacuated here if this has spread as far as I think."

Enishi sighed.

"If it's my kin, I want to help sort it out," he murmured, "but I'll do as you say, Sensei. The kids need someone to keep an eye on them too, and as I'm the only Senior here, I guess that falls to me."

"Good," Kazoe looked approving. "Well? Did you First years all hear that? Houjou is in charge until I or another member of staff return. Understand? Once the Fourth years arrive, I'll put the barrier in place and then you'll all be quite secure."

He frowned, chewing on his lip as he interpreted the fading strains of reiryoku from the outside battle.

Kyouraku released his sword, and there was a very powerful blast of Kidou. I'm quite sure nobody was hurt, but then again, that kind of thing shouldn't happen within the school grounds. I know Genryuusai-sensei said that Kinnya-sama would be ample protection for the students in the case of any danger, but what is he doing about this? If I'm right about the cause, the whole of the stationed First division might be affected. Who knows how much more damage they might do before they're stopped? The sooner I report this the better - I have no intention of letting any more students die this academic year!

---

"Ryuu!" At length Guren found his voice, darting forward as if to stop the boy from releasing his weapon any further. "Ryuu, sheath your sword! The slightest bit of stray reiryoku in this vicinity will cause the whole place to go up – your father's reiryoku has made this whole manor as volatile as a tinder box!"

Ryuu's eyes hardened, and Guren saw a flicker of true Kuchiki spirit flaring up in his kinsman's gaze. He made no attempt to lower his weapon, and the Clan leader was alarmed to see a fresh glimmer of light nestling at the base of the razor sharp blade.

"My sincere apologies if this appears as insubordination, Guren-ojisama," the young shinigami said softly, swinging his weapon around into a more offensive position and Guren stared in dismay at the trail of violet light the sword carved into the sky. "Father's enemy is also my enemy, and for his sake, I can no longer stand idle."

"Ryuu, did you not listen to a word I just said?" Guren demanded. "You can't have your sword released here! It's too dangerous – people might be hurt!"

"You should listen to your uncle, boy!" An unpleasant smile touched Keitarou's lips. "One wrong move from you and your father's life will no longer be anyone's concern. You should not get involved in adult games unless you know what you're getting into – this is not a place for young folk like you."

"Ryuu, Aizen has a network of reiatsu fibres surrounding this estate," Genryuusai spoke softly, his gaze trained thoughtfully on his young student, and despite his anxiety, Guren picked up on the sudden change in the old man's demeanour. "The air here is very volatile, meaning neither Guren-dono nor I can risk releasing our zanpakutou in case we bring about an explosion and cause further damage. There's a good chance of Seiren-dono's toxic reiatsu polluting further afield if we're not careful. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir. I understand," Ryuu's grip tightened on his sword blade, and Guren saw the young man cast his gaze out across the littered manor grounds, as though ascertaining the location of Keitarou's threads for himself. "Would it be of use to you if I were to try and sever those threads, Sensei? I believe my eyesight to be quite good, and I think I can see clearly the nature of their layout."

"Genryuusai-sama!" The Clan leader's eyes widened. "What are you…if Ryuu fights…"

"The moment your sword touches Chudokuga's threads, everything will explode," Keitarou said frankly, amusement in his mud-slurried eyes. "You're welcome to try it if you like, but the consequences will lie on your head, not mine."

"Explode?" Ryuu stared at Keitarou blankly. "Why would you suppose that?"

He swung his weapon around again, pointing it in the scientist's direction.

"Perhaps you have confused me with some other individual," he said quietly. "Shizurugi and I are not in the habit of causing unnecessary firework displays."

He glanced at his teacher.

"I believe I can sever a good number of the threads, Sensei," he added. "I am not certain of separating them all."

"Try," Genryuusai spoke softly. "Be as accurate as you can, my boy. This is no time for a shaking hand."

"Yes, sir," Ryuu nodded, and Guren saw a fresh glitter of purple light lick up the sword's long, elegant blade. "Junkouhou!"

With a determined, unwavering strike, Ryuu cast his right hand down first to the left then to the right, sending two identical flares of magenta energy coursing through the cold air towards Keitarou's zanpakutou net. Despite himself, Guren flinched as if in anticipation of some kind of reaction, but to his surprise there was none. The beams of light seared through the threads with only the faintest prickle of energy, and as the silver strands fell apart, Guren saw that where Ryuu's weapon had cut through them, the web-like fibres had begun to fray and disperse into harmless pieces of stray reiryoku.

His gaze flitted across to Keitarou, whose own expression had become one of consternation, and then to Genryuusai, who in contrast seemed far too calm.

"It seems Aizen has done his research on my sword and on yours, Guren-dono's – quite extensively." The old man rubbed his beard pensively. "It doesn't appear that he spent a lot of time looking into the zanpakutou of your younger nephew, however. That assumption was something of a gamble – but it appears to be paying off."

"What did you…how…" Keitarou stared at the remains of his web in disbelief, watching as the delicate threads dissolved into nothing more than stray energy. "A release of that nature should have ignited everything! Even touching against the dark atmosphere here…how is that possible?"

"I don't believe I have to answer to you, Aizen Keitarou." Ryuu took a few steps forward, Shizurugi still glittering in his hand. "You, on the other hand, have plenty of questions to answer."

"Are you addressing me as one of Genryuusai-dono's precocious students, or as the rightful heir to the Kuchiki Clan?" Keitarou's tone had an edge to it. "Perhaps you're addressing me as the rightful head of the Clan, glaring at me with that look in your eyes."

He shook his head slowly.

"You have no reason to fight against me. Nor did your father," he said lightly. "I was on Seiren-dono's side. True, I didn't imagine his spirit power was anything like as potent as it's proven to be – but aren't you angry, Ryuu? Your father was stripped of his spirit power and your right to inherit was taken away from you by his younger brother and that brother's son. Aren't you glad that now Ribari is no longer in the picture, your true claim has once more come to light? Seiren's spirit power might well be useless, but yours obviously is not. Doesn't it make you want to reach out and claim what should belong to your line of the family? You are the heir to the Kuchiki Clan – I know you know that just as much as I do."

"How dare you?" Ryuu's eyes became glittering slits of indignation. "How dare you insinuate that my father or I would even consider such treasonous thoughts or actions! Guren-sama is the Head of this Clan. Senaya-sama decreed it and bequeathed the family to the son who was able to inherit. It matters not to me nor to the Clan which twin was born first. Father was not suitable nor eligible for the leadership. If the reason for your doing this to my family centres around something that happened long before I was born, then I will renounce my claim to the Kuchiki here and now in full view of legitimate witnesses!"

"Ryuu!" Guren stared at his nephew in confusion, but Ryuu was paying him no attention, his eyes fixed coldly on Keitarou.

"I was quite content with my life how it was before, thank you," he said now, his voice trembling with emotion. "I had all I wanted and was free to pursue the future I know suits me best. Your meddling has caused grief and confusion to many of my kinsfolk and it has brought nobody any pleasure. Your pretty words don't resonate with me at all, Aizen Keitarou. You are here to destroy this family for some personal aim of your own. It has nothing to do with me or my position in this Clan and I will not be swayed by promises of personal gain any more than my father was. You are not Father's ally and you are certainly not mine."

"Perhaps Seiren has already colluded with me," Keitarou suggested lightly, and Ryuu shook his head impatiently.

"Father would not do such a thing. He would rather die," he said bluntly. "You think I'm a fool but I'm not. I may keep myself to myself and I might not push to the front of the Clan's interests, but I am a Kuchiki and I understand how my family operates. The only enemy here is you, and therefore you must be brought to account."

"I see." Keitarou's eyes became thoughtful. "Your sword is different, isn't it? I can feel it now. Instead of reacting to the atmosphere, it's the opposite."

"Shizurugi and I are not given to emotive displays of drama," Ryuu said coldly. "Unfortunately whatever means you have used to hold back my uncle and my Sensei will not work so easily on my sword. I grant I am not in their league – nor am I possibly in your own, for I am still in training and there is much I do not know. However, your trap will not work on Shizurugi. More, your web is broken and your hold over the surrounding area is too."

"Wait a minute…" Guren held up his hands. "Ryuu…are you saying your sword is…"

"Ryuu's spirit power acts as a negative, not a positive force, Guren-dono," Genryuusai interjected levelly, as a fresh beam of violet reiryoku shot out across the debris, severing the remains of Keitarou's net and forcing the scientist to hop back onto a precarious piece of broken wood in order to avoid being hit head on. A glint of silver indicated that at last Keitarou had brought his tantou knife out into view, but although he used the flat of its blade to deflect the next surge of Ryuu's attack, he made no attempt to release the silver barbs that had struck through Suzuno's throat and chest and robbed her so ruthlessly of life.

Ryuu too was holding back, watching the scientist with cautious eyes. He was not a rash, impulsive fighter, however sudden his entrance into this confrontation had been, and watching him, Guren realised that his young nephew was gauging the scene, absorbing every piece of data he could before making a judgement on how best to act.

"Hesitation in a situation like this can win or lose a confrontation," Genryuusai murmured pensively, moving slowly but steadily across the uneven ground to where the Clan leader stood. "I wasn't sure whether or not Ryuu would join the fray - or whether he'd release his weapon given everything else going on. You needn't fear an explosion, though, Guren-dono. Just as his master is level and methodical in his behaviour, Shizurugi is a far more elementally stable blade than either yours or mine. In fact, you might see it as a purifier. Unlike most active zanpakutou, Shizurugi's emissions break down foreign spirit power and render it useless. Yesterday, when we arrived here, I understand he was able to approach his father and put his hand through the kidou barrier as well as brace himself against Seiren's unpleasant aura. Those things were only possible because of the nature of Ryuu's zanpakutou spirit. Shizurugi acts as a guard over Ryuu's soul, preventing it from easily being contaminated. His sword, when released, also allows him to effectively sterilise and scatter opposing reiryoku into nothing more harmless than dust. You saw what happened when it collided with Aizen's kidou, didn't you? As an offensive weapon, Shizurugi's blade is unusually sharp, but its true talent is in voiding the spirit power of its opponents. It scatters those elements to such a degree that they can no longer be used for any useful kind of attack…and so in a situation like this, Ryuu's released blade is not a danger but a help."

"Ryuu's sword…can purify Seiren's toxic aura?" Genryuusai's eyes became huge. "Are you saying Ryuu might cure Seiren's condition?"

"Sadly, Ryuu is not yet at a stage where he could manage such a mammoth task," Genryuusai shook his head. "One day, maybe, but that day is not this one. Still, the trails of light you see in the sky are the proof of Shizurugi purifying the reiryoku it touches. Each of Ryuu's flares is sterile and un-reactive. No matter how volatile the atmosphere, Shizurugi's release will not ignite it. He is the only one among us who can safely release his sword in this environment. For the time being he is our best hope."

"I have never paid a lot of attention to the training of my second nephew," Guren admitted guiltily. "I am as surprised as Aizen at the nature of his spirit power. I am realising what a stranger Seiren's son is to me, Genryuusai-sama. That is my failing, isn't it? I have dismissed a boy of considerable power and ability because he was not immediately in my line of sight."

"It's hopefully not too late to rectify that." Genryuusai reflected, his gaze flitting back to where the scientist stood. "There is something amiss with this encounter, Guren-dono. I cannot place what it is, but Aizen is not being as actively hostile or dangerous as I anticipated he might be. He has managed to neutralise our actions, but it doesn't seem as though he's planning on wreaking devastation here. To be truthful, his behaviour concerns me."

"You think he's killing time?" Guren's brows knitted together, and Genryuusai nodded.

"I'm worried about his intentions towards Juushirou," he murmured. "I gave strict instructions that that boy be taken out of circulation the moment he showed any unusual behaviour, but that said, Juushirou is not an easy individual to confine when his sword is in full release. I am caught between two evils – whilst Keitarou is here I cannot knowingly leave District Six and allow him to escape. Equally, though, my thoughts are with my students…I hope Kinnya is up to whatever might happen there."

"My uncle is not a feeble shinigami, even if he is out of practice."

"No, true," Genryuusai acknowledged. "But he has a weakness, and Juushirou appears to be it. I don't think he is capable of raising his sword to his own grandson…and there's no telling how much Aizen does or doesn't know about that. He seems to know a fair amount about your family – I wouldn't rule out him knowing more."

"Ryuu also seems to know a fair bit about it. Ryuu, Seiren, Kinnya-ojisama…but not me," Guren spoke bitterly, his gaze returning to the tense form of his younger nephew. "When Aizen baited him, he showed no surprise, Genryuusai-sama. Is this something you too have become party to?"

"There are Clan issues I become involved in and those I do not." Genryuusai shook his head. "Your father may have been a student of mine, but he was not given to confidences outside of his own Clan. No, I knew nothing of this. However, as you rightly said, it changes nothing. You are head of the Clan and Ryuu and Seiren-dono both clearly believe that too. Aizen's words are meant to unsettle you. It will only be his victory if you allow them to do so."

"Mm," Guren inclined his head slightly. "The truth or otherwise of that matter I will have from Ojiue later. For now, this is more important."

"The air here is still thick with toxic reiatsu," Genryuusai frowned. "Ryuu's sword will become more powerful than it is, but at present he and Shizurugi are not a match for Aizen Keitarou, not even if Aizen is missing his Bankai. I'm sure Ryuu's sword skills are superior – but Aizen's survived a long time without using that kind of combat."

"Now the web is gone, there's a chance for me to recover my sword and take him by surprise," Guren's eyes narrowed. "His attention is focused on Ryuu at present. If he believes us to be unable to fight, I might…"

"Ryuu's sword cancelled out his Byakurai, but this atmosphere is still very volatile," Genryuusai warned. "Be careful, Guren-dono. There is still a risk of polluting the atmosphere and of bringing the rest of the manor down around your brother's ears."

"If Keitarou wanted to ignite the manor, surely releasing his own sword would do that?" Guren paused, turning to eye the old man in consternation. "If he was to release even his shikai, the gathered reiryoku that he released would almost certainly react with Seiren's aura, and then..."

"Like I said, this battle is wrong," Genryuusai said grimly. "Igniting the manor would also mean it no longer mattered if we used our swords. The damage would be done. Therefore, stalemate. So long as he doesn't release, we cannot...but he is not, therefore his purpose for being here must be something other than the destruction of District Six's atmosphere and this estate. As resolved as Ryuu is, I am not convinced that he is strong enough to really challenge Aizen Keitarou in any great regard."

"Then I should retrieve my sword," Guren made towards his discarded weapon, but as he drew closer to it, something shot out across the landscape, narrowly missing his fingers. As it embedded itself in a stray piece of plaster, Guren saw it was a knife - not Keitarou's own tantou knife, but a plain, unmarked weapon of the same style that had been used to murder his stable hands.

"Your interference might make me set this place alight," Keitarou's words held a warning. "It's disrespectful to your nephew, Guren-dono. Don't you want to see what your heir can do? Or would you rather I killed him and settled the embarrassment of the family line once and for all? Your brother's life is hanging by a thread, so if I were to eradicate this young one, you would have nobody to contest your claim."

"I am not so easy to kill," Ryuu himself interjected, before Guren could respond. "And I shall not be killed by you under any circumstances, Aizen Keitarou."

"We shall see," Keitarou slipped into shunpo, re-materialising at Ryuu's back. Before the young shinigami could turn around, he had Chudokuga's blade pointed at Ryuu's throat, and a sly chuckle escaped his lips.

"I don't need sword skills or shikai to slit your throat," he murmured softly, only just loud enough for Guren to hear his words. "One wrong move and it won't matter how effective your sword is in this atmosphere. You won't be able to wield it."

His eyes narrowed.

"Drop your weapon, and we'll talk."

"You can't make me do that unless you sever my life," Ryuu said softly, and Guren stared at his nephew in dismay, seeing the prickle of lavender energy beginning to mass once more against the petal guard. "I wonder if you can do that before I blast you through with my shikai?"

"I can release my sword into you quicker than you can release yours into me. Count on it," Now there was no humour in Keitarou's mud-brown eyes. "The moment I release Chudokuga, there will be a chain reaction. Are you willing to risk the rest of the house coming down and crushing your father where he lies? Your sword might be able to move freely, but you forget, I don't care who dies here, so long as it isn't me. I'll tell you again, Ryuu-dono. Drop your sword."

Ryuu hesitated, indecision and frustration surfacing in his grey eyes, and the glint of the silver tantou knife inched closer to the young man's jugular. A strange, faintly green sheen glinted off its surface in the winter light, and Guren swallowed hard, his gaze flitting to his own discarded sword as he gauged whether he could grab his weapon and slip through shikai before the scientist could make good on his threat. The noxious aura prickled against his skin, and he bit his lip, suppressing the flicker of reiryoku that had threatened to flare up in defence of his blood kin.

He isn't joking. Even the slightest drop in my guard could be enough to trigger the chain reaction and kill Seiren, not to mention Retsu-sama and Shibata too.

Seconds passed, merging together into minutes, the only sound the hiss of the breeze and the only movement the tentative swaying of the unstable house beams that marked where the doomed west wing had joined the central portion of the manor. One minute became two, two became four, and then Keitarou let out a derisive laugh.

"Is this the extent of the Kuchiki-ke's ability to fight back?" he murmured mockingly, running the sharp edge of his weapon lightly against Ryuu's skin and causing a thin trickle of blood to run down the young man's throat towards the collar of his white hakamashita. Ryuu flinched, but there was no fear in his eyes, only indignant fury and Guren found his second nephew rising yet again in his estimation.

"The head of the so-called greatest Clan in Seireitei struck silent and unable to move or fight for fear of sacrificing the life of a kinsman? I thought Clan didn't think that way. I thought Clan believed in sacrificing anything in order to keep their family moving forward and upwards."

"This Clan has honour and it has pride," Guren spoke slowly, his own anger resonating with every word. "Each one of us is imprinted with that from the day we are born. We are trained to sacrifice our lives for the good of the Clan, Aizen. We are not taught to sacrifice each other's."

Before Keitarou could respond, the whole area juddered beneath their feet, and the sound of cracking beams and splitting plasterwork resonated out across the landscape. Guren whipped around, horror in his eyes as he registered the large hairline fractures that were beginning to spread up the wall of the east wing, shattering through the window frames and sending pieces of broken stone falling to the ground like rain.

"Surely not..." he whispered, as there was a loud crash, followed by a huge plume of smoke that engulfed the surrounding area. Guren coughed, his breath suddenly coming in fits and starts, and, as the world around him blurred and flickered into black and white, he felt as though someone had wrapped bands around his ribcage, stifling his lungs and oppressing his heart so that it had to work twice as heart to remember how to beat.

His fingers went automatically to his waist for the hilt of his sword, grasping thin air, and he coughed again, covering his nose and mouth in an attempt to stop inhaling the chalky dust and debris that now hung heavy in the air like fog.

From somewhere not far away he heard the sound of someone sharply drawing breath, and as the haze began to clear, Guren's throat muscles clenched shut, his mind swirling with confusion and dismay.

Where there had once been wall, there was now an open space spreading almost the entire length of a room and at intervals broken fragments of plaster from the ledge above rained down onto the ground. In the midst of the destruction, flanked by the ragged edges of damaged walls was a figure, tall and lean with his thick dark hair fluttering around his shoulders in the breeze. At his wrists and ankles were the remains of bands, warped and melted from a power superior to their own, and across the man's face was a distinctive, terrifying shell of white, the malevolent yellow eyes gleaming out from jagged sockets.

Bile rose in Guren's throat and his hand automatically went to his throat, as if remembering the last time he had seen that face, but it was Ryuu, still trapped in Keitarou's grasp who found his voice first.

"No..." he whispered, horror in his grey gaze. "It can't be...Otousama?"

---

Author's Note:

Vaizard Seiren is back!

Also, Ryuu's zanpakutou. I had Shizurugi thought out in terms of name and appearance, manifestation etc for quite some time back in Second Manuscript (believe it or not), but its exact nature didn't dawn on me until this story. Zanpakutou are meant to fit their owners' characters and styles of fighting, and this seemed appropriate for Ryuu. He's a reasoned, methodical, thinking individual who is not prone to explosions of temper or emotion. Shizurugi's neutrality was therefore a logical choice. There is also another reason though. Seiren's spirit power was obviously passed to Ryuu genetically, but they are diametric opposites. Whilst Seiren's power is malevolent and poisoned (the word I keep thinking of is the Japanese word magamagashii o.o) Ryuu's is pure and neutralising. Essentially, it's an extension of Seireitei's 'balance' - Seiren is the problem and Ryuu is the solution.

Shizurugi 紫剣 means "Purple Sword"...nothing more sophisticated than that. A 'Tsurugi' is a sword in Japanese terminology, but I believe it has a specific meaning outside of Japan as a double edged weapon. Shi 紫- which is Murasaki, the same as Ryuu's eldest sister's name and "purple" is an imperial colour associated with nobility and regality. With different kanji, "shi" can also mean death, giving Ryuu's weapon a double entendre.

Also it sounds nice when you try to say it . His attack,

純光砲 or Junkouhou means "Pure Light Cannon", and I think that's self-explanatory. :)